


Look at me

by lyrawinter



Category: Project Blue Book (TV)
Genre: Episode 5, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Season 1
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-06
Updated: 2020-08-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:40:20
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25749040
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lyrawinter/pseuds/lyrawinter
Summary: This fic takes place during the episode 5 of the Season 1.
Relationships: J. Allen Hynek/Michael Quinn
Kudos: 21





	Look at me

**Author's Note:**

> Recently I started watching Project Blue Book and I'm loving it :-) This is my first fic in this fandom. I hope you enjoy it. English is not my first language so I apologize for any mistakes. Thanks for reading! :-)

"Did you follow a stranger into this place?" the captain asked in disbelief. 

It hadn’t been a wise decision, Allen was aware of that. Most people would have breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing the other car stop hitting his from behind and enter that abandoned amusement park. Most people would have sped up then to arrive home as soon as possible.

Almost nobody would have stepped on the brakes and changed into reverse to cross that iron fence into the unknown. But Allen wasn’t like most people. He’d recognized the driver: it was the man with the hat, and Allen had realized he hadn’t tried to run him off the road; he just wanted to show Allen something. Sure, he could have been more subtle: he could have blown the horn and gestured for Allen to follow him, but the professor knew by now that the man with the hat liked to act mysterious. He showed up at the most random times and disappeared shortly after, like a ghost.

The man also seemed to know the professor well. Allen was reckless when he wanted answers and since he’d started working on Project Blue Book he seemed to have only questions and more questions, and he hadn’t encountered anyone who was willing to give him the answers, or at least, to give him some clues. Real clues, not red herrings to steer him away from the truth. 

Allen wasn’t a brawny man and he’d never been good at sports (well, save for Chess, but unfortunately his chess skills wouldn’t help him in a fight). The professor didn’t know how to use a gun either. He’d probably have had no chances to succeed if the mysterious driver had set up an ambush. However, the man had just wanted Allen to find a room. A room where the project was displaying symbols he didn’t recognize and numbers that didn’t seem to follow a pattern. 

More questions and no answers. Were they clues or red herrings?

He’d drawn the symbols and wrote down the numbers in case they were real clues and he could find their meaning at some point. He’d told the captain later, and now they were here again, and Allen was about to show him the room so the captain could see himself the images displayed by the projector.

The corridor was narrow and covered in semi darkness. Allen could feel the tension in the captain’s body as he walked beside him, the fabric of his uniform almost brushing against the professor’s brown suit jacket. Captain Quinn was alert. Perhaps the strange man was still there waiting for them, and they didn’t know his intentions.

However there was no one in the room. And it was completely empty. The lamps, the chairs, the table, the projector. Everything was gone, as if it had never existed.

“It was here!” the professor exclaimed looking around, and he could hear the frustration in his own voice. Had it been the strange man? Had he taken everything after Allen left?

“What was here?” the captain asked. He’d spoken in a calm tone, but Allen noticed a hint of exasperation. This had been a complete waste of time.

“The man with the hat! He might be still here!” Allen ran towards the door.

“Doc, wait!”

But Allen didn’t listen to him. He rushed through the building. When he stepped outside, he was breathing hard, but he didn’t stop. He could only hear the sound of his footsteps. The attractions and the tents became blurry as he ran. He lifted his gaze to the wonder wheel, panting. And then, he saw him.

It wasn’t the man with the hat. It was Fuller, the pilot who claimed to have engaged in a dogfight. 

Allen just wanted answers. He’d had no way to know what was going to happen. He’d showed him one of the symbols he’d drawn. The triangles and the circles.

If he closed his eyes, he still could see the flames. He’d tried to stop it from happening. He’d stepped forward, towards the flames.

“Doc, no!” The captain’s voice had sounded behind him. His arms had wrapped around Allen and his chest had pressed against the professor’s back, holding him in place. Captain’s Quinn voice sounded in his ear now, his tone softer. “Close your eyes. Close your eyes.”

But Allen didn’t obey. He tried to wriggle out of his arms. Perhaps he still could save Fuller. Maybe…

Captain Quinn leaned forward, pulling him closer. 

“Close your eyes.” This time, he murmured, and Allen stopped fighting. The realization that there was nothing he could do hit him. He felt suddenly drained. If the captain weren’t holding him, Allen would have fallen on the ground. He tilted his head forward and closed his eyes.

*

“You shouldn’t go home tonight,” Captain Quinn told him later, in the car. 

The professor turned to him, questioning.

“Call Mimi and tell her we have to revise some documents at the military base,” Captain Quinn said, his eyes fixed on the road. “You can come over to my place.” He paused for a moment before adding: “I… I know how you’re feeling.” His knuckles turned white around the wheel, and he didn’t elaborate further. 

Allen averted his gaze from him. He knew what the captain was referring to. He’d seen men die in the war. He’d experienced the horror, the sense of helplessness, the defeat. 

“Okay,” the professor whispered.

*

“A shower will make you feel better,” the captain told him as they walked along the front garden. 

Allen’s gaze fell upon the two porch swings. He looked up at the sky as Captain Quinn pulled out his keys and opened the door. The stars twinkled. He could see Venus, Mars, Jupiter and Saturn. The sight brought him some comfort.

“Are you alright?” The captain turned to him.

“Yeah.” Allen managed a smile.

*

The shower eased some tension in his body. The captain lent him a tracksuit. It was a bit loose because the captain was taller than him, but the fabric was soft. He rolled up his sleeves and stepped out of the bathroom.

He found the captain in the kitchen, pouring hot chocolate in two mugs.

It had been a long time since Allen had drunk hot chocolate. Years. Maybe, even decades. He breathed in the smell of cocoa, and something warm filled his body.

The captain turned his head to look at him, and his lips curved upwards. It was a subtle gesture but it didn’t go unnoticed. Allen couldn’t help but smile too. 

“How do I look?” he asked, turning around.

When he met Captain Quinn’s eyes again, the captain’s face had lit up. A playful smile was tugging at his lips.

“It looks better on me, but I guess you look passable.”

Allen laughed, shaking his head. The captain grabbed the mugs and motioned to the door, the smile still on his face.

“Let’s go outside. The night is warm.”

“Okay,” Allen said, following him.

*

They drank the hot chocolate in silence, looking at the stars and enjoying the earthy scent in the air. 

When they finished, they put the mugs on the wooden floor. The captain glanced at the sky.

“I’ve always wondered what of these are stars and what are actually planets,” he commented.

Allen smiled.

“I know what you’re trying to do, and I appreciate it, captain.” The captain was trying to distract him. He knew that Allen loved talking about the Space.

A gentle expression flashed in Captain Quinn’s eyes.

“But you don’t feel like talking much, do you? It’s alright.” He stood up.

“Where are you going?” Allen asked, confused.

“I’ll be right back. I just need to go fetch my guitar. Hey, don’t look so surprised,” he added, a hint of amusement in his voice. “Did you think I just had military skills.”

Allen held up his hands, letting out a laugh. 

“I haven’t said anything, captain.” The professor’s voice also sounded amused.

*

It wasn’t long before Captain Quinn came back carrying his guitar, but it felt like an eternity. Allen felt relieved upon seeing him. The captain gave him a smile.

“Well.” He sat on the porch swing again and placed the guitar on his lap. “Now, I want you to relax, doc. Don’t think. Just listen to the music. It… it will help.”

Allen noticed that he wanted to add something else but decided against it. The captain wasn’t used to talking about feelings. Allen felt a pang in stomach upon imagining all the times the captain had suppressed his emotions, all the times he’d pretended that everything was alright, that he could overcome everything on his own. Perhaps they could help each other heal, Allen thought. Perhaps the captain would open up with him if Allen did it first.

“I can’t close my eyes,” he confessed in a low voice. “I’m scared of seeing his face in my mind.”

The captain leaned forward.

“Then look at me, doc. Look at me and feel the music, and cry if you need to. I’ll play the guitar until you fall asleep, and I’ll wake you up if you have a nightmare.” There was a look of determination on his face, and his voice didn’t falter, but Allen saw vulnerability in the captain’s eyes, and the captain wasn’t trying to mask it. He wanted Allen to see it, to understand all the things he was leaving unsaid.

The captain was going to spend the entire night with him, dispelling the memories of today. This was much more than Allen could have asked for. The professor tried to think of a reply that could convey how much this meant for him, but he felt like there were no words in the universe that could convey it. Allen was usually an articulate man, but now he didn’t know what to say. He swallowed thickly and reached out to touch the captain's arm.

“Thank you,” he whispered.


End file.
